Bwari, Nigeria, 16. July 2016
It was unethical, probably a mistake and generally a stupid thing to do, yet Dr. Vertefeuille saw no choice but to do it anyway. All of his ministrations so far had brought his friend only prolonged suffering but no healing, he was in a painful limbo between life and death. The unmarked bag that went into a drip feed into Dr. Musa`s arm contained half a liter of Christine Goodfellow`s blood plasma.
The lab had found antibodies in her blood, of a type that was slightly different from anything that they had seen before when it came to Ebola. The first tests looked good and plenty of antibodies had been extracted. They would most likely be reproduced in Tabaco plants that were genetically modified into doing so, tested and released. That would take many months, even when Dr. Vertefeuille had heard that things would be accelerated a great lot. The news that the mosquito was able to spread the Ebola virus had finally gotten the attention of the world. Yet, whatever would happen during the next months it would be too late for his friend, so he had taken the only chance that he could see.
Northern Nigeria, 8. August 2016
Kochinus had lost a lot when he made the transition to the new world. He no longer had a unified body with a nervous system that would transmit the blessings of Nurgle. He no longer had eyes to see the putrefaction and boils that he used to give his victims or a strong arm to wield the cleaver like he once did. And he had no idea if he still had any access to the magic he had mastered so long ago, this world was so bereft of the blessed energy of Chaos that he could not practice any of his old arts.
Yet he had gained so much as well-knowledge from the beings that had received his blessings and an insight into the working of the material universe at the small scale. Now he knew how the message written into the core of beings was written, how to read it and how to rewrite it in creative ways. Currently he amused himself with his latest project. He had inserted parts of himself into one of the many bacteria that populated his environment in such numbers. Even before it had done Nurgle`s work, but now it made things happen in days that usually took millions of years.
This was amusing to watch but that he had time for such things was just a reminder that he had made a mistake for which he cursed himself as much as his new body was capable of. A stupid beginners mistake that he would not have committed in the old world where he knew what he was doing from long experience. He had made his blessing too lethal, too fast-acting and too infectious. At first he had not realized this and had marveled how quickly his blessing had spread, how quickly and painfully his chosen had died.
And then the spreading had stopped. His chosen could not flee very fast and far as they succumbed too quickly and his domain seemed to have enemies that hemmed its inhabitants in. For whatever reason the dispersion of his gift had slowed down at the borders of this domain and after some early success it had slowed down. Slowed down so much that his chosen died before they could give their blessing to others in fact.
Now he had to wait for his winged servants to spread the message. They were not stopped at human borders nor so easily defeated by masks and eternal washing. It just would need time-he could not influence their wanderings and they would percolate to new areas slowly but surely. They would spread his improved self then, one that remained in the host a bit longer, would at first just look like a simple cold before revealing itself.
It took him a while to feel that something was wrong and even longer to realize what was bothering him. Parts of his body went numb-he was no longer able to sense them at all. They were the dormant parts of him that inhabited the winged messengers at the farthest edges of his domain-what…
400 Kilometers west of Katsina, same time
Eric Lundsberg was not mad, yet his superiors and many of his peers thought so. They estimated him not a little touched, slightly strange or having unconventional habits-they were sure he was about a hairs-breadth away from foaming-at-the-mouth lunacy, but in a useful way.
This was not so, Eric was just born at the wrong time. He would have been right at home in the old US postal flights when one plane crashed each week, would joyfully have flown with VT-8 against the Japanese fleet at Midway or tested the first jet planes that disintegrated when you just sneezed.
Such opportunities were no longer to be had and he had been honorably discharged from the US Air Force having successfully hidden his most daring shenanigans. Now he had found a new way to find joy and fulfillment and if this cemented his reputation with most of his peers he could not care less.
Flying endlessly at a few hundred meters above the jungle below was not a problem, but if you did it in a 300+ ton aircraft it became more challenging. Doing it with an ever-changing weight and trim situation was borderline. Flying at a speed where he had to lower flaps to stay aloft and a minute drop in speed would send him into a spin that could only terminate into the ground would be considered too dangerous by most other pilots. Doing it in a plane that had been hastily modified and certified by an FAA official who had either been blind or under mortal threat was a sure sign of madness, but somebody had to do it and he was so glad it was him.
Normally his job was putting out raging brushfires with his modified Boeing 747-100, something that required him to fly even lower and drop a huge load very quickly. Now the new piping under his great plane`s wings distributed a different stuff-DDT. 100 kilograms of DDT per square kilometer were enough to kill nearly all mosquitos as the old insecticide had not been used in this region for many years. His plane held nearly 80 tons of DDT-he would have to hold course and attitude for quite a while longer. Life was good.
He landed at Abujia airport hours later and taxied past two Russian MIL-26 helicopters which did the same job as him in spots even he could not reach and several Chinese airbus freighters who flew the insecticide from China where it was still produced in wholesale amounts.
When Ebola changed vector it was upgraded as a threat to the industrialized countries to the point where they really cared and did something about it. Their chosen method would kill countless birds by thinning their egg shells and devastate ecosystems by killing pollinating insects without discrimination. Traces of the many tons of DDT used these days would show up in sea lions living in the Antarctic 20 years later, and none of this mattered. What mattered was to kill the new form of Ebola, here and now. Few other things would matter unless this was done.
When Eric parked his plane he watched the arrival of a Hercules plane. He had heard about them and was wondering whether this part of the scheme would work or not. Even if it did it would take too much time, which was why he and the other crazies were establishing a 20-kilometer wide border around northern Nigeria where no flying insect was allowed to live.
Eric reapplied his mosquito repellant before leaving the plane; even he was not that crazy
Karak de Redemption, same time
The long, slender room was underground, and so lacked any natural light or ventilation. Its walls were from natural stone and set there probably a thousand years ago or more, the same went for the flagstones that made up the floor. There had been some wooden shelving when the Templars had opened this room first, they were long gone as were the old holders for oil lamps. CFL`s now light the room in a cold white light, and many 27 inch monitors added their glow to that. There were many simple tables that held desktop computers and office chairs for robed men and women that diligently hacked away at keyboards.
Their internet connection cost the order a pretty penny as they had erected a directional radio link to France proper, but the Grand Master was sure it was worth every penny.
Jacques Moselle was one of them and currently he was looking through another blog that concerned itself with the wasteland.
Nobody had called him Jacques during the last months; he was "Brother Pierre" by now. He had removed roughly a hundred grams worth of piercings from his face and with the help of the order had beaten a beginning Crystal Math addiction. He was fully content now, knew that he was doing the Lord`s work and hoped against hope that his work would be recognized so that he could gain admission into the inner circles of the order.
He had just finished changing the IP of his computer so that he could appear as a different poster and went into the "All about the Wasteland" blog again.
"So you are sure that the newly arrived lands are a part of a fictional universe called "Warhammer" and equally sure that there is a dangerous substance in the soil you call Warpstone. You do not have a sample of this substance, cannot state any properties about it, cannot link to any scientific publications but you know it is there.
And if the Wasteland indeed should be a part of "Warhammer"-however you arrive at that conclusion-what Edition do you think it is? Actually by GW`s latest publications the city we sometimes glimpse and you insist is Altdorf should be a City of Light magic, not a congested hellhole without sewers."
This was more or less what he had written under three other names already, it was important not to look the lone ranger.
He logged off and wrote an internal mail to his supervisor.
"The blogger by the name "Ward" is insistent that the Wasteland is indeed a part of something called the "Warhammer World" and also insists that its soil might contain a dangerous substance "Warpstone". About 70% of the commentators to this site agree at least partially with that and it is hard to sway them.
When Jacques tried to reach the same blog the next day he was unable to reach it, some problem with the blogs server. Jacques would slave away at his desk for six more weeks and take part in three more Eucharist before he was admitted into the next circle. Among the first mysteries he was introduced into was the intricacies of a denial-of-service attack on websites who posted things that the order did not deem healthy and good.
Großer Tiergarten, Berlin, Angertag 7. Erntezeit
Lena Probst was engaged in one of the more classic things a six-year-old could engage in when outdoors-she was making soap bubbles and watched them as they were driven by the winds through the had neither an eye for the sunny weather nor the greenery around her. Instead she ran here and there on the orderly paths that led through the public park.
Her mother tried to keep an eye on her while sitting on a bench and reading a romance novel about a Bretonian noblewoman. As the wind blew the bubbles here and there her daughter always kept within shouting distance so that was fine. And she was just reading about the moment when the knight entered the bed chamber, so currently she was mentally not here.
Lena had meanwhile made the most beautiful soap bubble that she ever saw. It had all the color of the rainbow, glittered in the sun and refused to burst. The wind drew it on and on till a gust blew it around the corner. Anxious not to lose sight of it she ran around the corner, just to collide with a huge man with an equally huge beard who lifted her up and did not let her go. He lifted her so high that her head was above his shoulder and she could see three more men, all clade in the same strange clothes she had never seen before. They could not hold her attention as she looked at the most beautiful woman she had ever seen-and that woman was holding her soap bubble in her hands. That was not possible-nobody could do this.
And then the beautiful woman said something in a language that she did not understand and she was set on the ground.
She had to look a long way up to see the beautiful woman`s face. She looked past white and grey clothes and into a gray-white hair that were above a young face.
The woman looked at her and smiled, a warm beautiful smile. She started to speak German, even if it was accented German.
"You have made a beautiful thing little one. Can you make another?"
And so Lena put the bubble makers loop before her lips and blew-the new bubble was a bit smaller but also good.
The beautiful woman caught it in her other hand. And like the first one it did not burst, it just looked a bit different.
"Take this one child, but careful as it is fragile like glass-and will be cold like this forever."
"Thank you beautiful Lady."
"You have made me a wonderful gift child, it is just appropriate I give you one in turn."
"My mummy always says that I have to say that you anyway."
"Then you have a wise mother, and I think there she is. Go with her and take care."
The woman put the bubble in her hand and as she had warned it was very cold and very beautiful. Lena handled it more careful than an egg as she should.
In her hand was a frozen soap bubble and a lot of people would have seen a lot of similarities between it and the Tzarina-beautiful, dazzling and ice cold. Only very few people would have called Katherina fragile though.
German was close enough to Reikspiel that Tzarina Katharina could understand with few difficulties. So she heard the child all too well when her mother led her away.
"Why is the beautiful woman so sad mommy."
"I do not know Lena, but don`t so this again."
"But this is so beautiful mama."
"What is-oh my god."
Katharina was very good at not showing her feelings, whether it was elation or despair. She made it again, but barely. Having to kill her own child had nearly torn her heart out, yet it was just the beginning, the real horrors were to come.
Yet, the breather she had taken was about over and she had to get back to the negotiating table again.
She was about to lay it all on the table-mining concessions, abolishing of tariffs, right to invest. And if it was really so important to the Germans she would somehow abolish serfdom, but that would need time. She suspected that the Imperials insisted on it mostly not to have a disadvantage at wages, but they became more German by the day.
For all of that she would ask to be admitted into the Reiksbund. It was inevitable-Chaos Marauders had learned not to raid the Empire, and those who had not learned died. That left her realm under ever-increasing pressure.
Her goddess had shown her what were to happen of the next Chaos Crusade would hit her realm. The death, the devastation, the destruction of so many and so much she held dear. The Reiksbund aid that would eventually come and fend off the invasion and the aftermath that would leave Kislev weak and divided.
It was not to be, not while she drew breath and she would do whatever it took to avoid that. She had already started to do it in fact-poor, stupid, idiotic, beloved dead Nicky.
The Empire had it easy when they wanted into that Reiksbund-they had most of the resources the Germans needed, were next door and were seen as relations-which they very well might be in a way. The Tilean cities were urgently needed as allies and the Dawi clans usually had offered some morsels that the Germans had need of. They had also fought together with the Reiksbund and that was honored by both sides.
Kislev had Coltan and a few other things, but nothing the Germans might not get easier elsewhere. Kislev was often seen as backwards even by the Imperials. The long interview Fjodor Upenskoy had given the Zeit" newspaper where he had called democracy "for the weak will and serfs" and his prediction that Germany would perish soon had reinforced that view,. That more than a few of her Bojars had loudly acclaimed that had not helped any.
Now she and her people had to work much harder to earn their place, but nil they will they she would drag, cajole and whip her people along the way and would trample upon anything and anybody in that way.
Nobody was more surprised than her when a few days later the soap bubble surfaced again-as a serious part of the negotiations. She had to make a few new ones, one for Lena and a few as memorabilia. Her part of that deal would need years before she had to make good of it-and what she would help to forge was part of the path that would lead to the stars.#
100 kilometers from Katsina, Northern Nigeria, 10 August 2016
The Hercules transporter flew much lower and slower than Eric Lundsberg, yet it was designed to do so and needed no gifted madman at the controls. Currently the loading ramp was open and a steady stream of small crates dropped from it.
They fell to the ground slowed by their low weight and large size, whereupon they broke open and released their cargo into the wild. Small clouds formed over them before dispersing into the landscape. The clouds were made up from what this blasted landscape needed-more Mosquitoes.
When dusk broke they mingled with other clouds of other insects and joined the mating dance. The newcomers were all male mosquitoes. When the females laid their eggs in the next handy body of water there were quite a lot of non-viable eggs-all the males released had been sterilized by radiation.
Each new generation would be less as the planes dropped a steady dose of sterilized insects, while Eric and his peers started to work inwards from the strips of death they had laid down around the infection area.
Hsien Iron Mines, Northern Cathay, 10. Erntezeit
The channel that connected the mines with the Great Waterway was one of the wonders of Cathay. Dug for hundreds of kilometers through the plains it had taken generations to finish, cost countless lives and more than a thousand of people were working full time maintaining it.
All that expense was mostly spent as the so-called iron mines were the premiere location for making good iron as they combines easily available ores, vast woods for charcoal and also yielded cooper and other valuable metals.
Supplying the mines, controlling the floods when the rain exceeded what the ground could take, distribute the farmers produce-the waterway did it all-just that currently it did not. The Hobgoblins were well aware of the channels importance, had attacked the locks whenever they could, shot at any boat r ship that tried to make its way upriver and tried to block the channels at times. For months on end no ship had reached the mines.
Wolfgang Böhler stood on top of the walls that encircled the currently unused harbor and watched the channel through his trusty binox. He had been here since an hour and was about to turn to his wireless operator when he saw something that drew his attention. A grin appeared on his face.
"See something interesting Tidu"
"Yes Shangshiao, the visitors I was told to expect are arriving"
"Can I borrow your glasses then Tidu?"
Shangshiao (Colonel) Li Fen needed a bit of time to readjust the Binoculars to his eyes and then let his view follow the channel. There was a whole lot of nothing until a couple of kilometers out. He had a hard time to interpret what he saw. A small number of ships seemed to make their way up the channel, but he could neither see sails, rudders nor teams of oxen that hauled them along the paths provided on both sides of the waterway.
They just made their way, and the only sign of anything that drove them were very small amounts of smoke that emerged from them. The ships were strangely bereft of features. They were low, had sloping sides and a flat top, but no bridge, no guardrails, no masts-nothing but smooth sides. What he could also see were the Hobgoblins that raced towards the visitors as to stop them. The greenskins did not invest the mines and their fortress too closely these days, they had learned the folly of that pretty soon after the mercenaries had arrived with their convoy. Instead they kept lookouts and large formations of Wolfriders to intercept anything that wanted to enter or leave the mines. He saw huge mobs of cavalry arriving at the way besides the channel and effortlessly pace the ships. Strong arms bent composite bows, arrows and spears flew towards the ships that made their way regardless.
The Hobgoblin efforts were reaching a crescendo when small-seeming hatches opened all over the ships and flickering flames lit the openings. The effects on the greenskins were far more spectacular. Scores of them dropped where long machine gun salvos ripped through them, explosions tore open the ground and mixed earth with blood and body parts and colorful lights indicated where Hobgoblin shamans had been kept from plying their trade.
Li fen liked the sight for sure but it did also confuse him.
"Did you not say that the Deyizhi Diguo would not sell warships to us Tidu?"
"Yes, I said the German government will not sell warships to the Throne of Heaven and they have not. The Dragon has, in his infinite wisdom, bought several unarmed diesel-powered river barges which are a bit expensive but can be legally obtained. The Germans also sold us a lot of light railway rails and our technical team has installed these as armor on the barges. They also added the latest items from the Tortuga Iron Works on board-and so you get a warship that was totally not sold by the German government."
"I like the ways you Germans operate Tidu, I really do."
"I am not a German any more Fen."
"As much as these are not warships Wolfgang."
The next evening saw Areta Bane walk down one of the small side streets that made up this part of the Hsien fortress town together with parts of the old gang-Breda was there who had her own platoon by now, Drusilla who had graduated to a heavy weapons squad and the other tent mates that had survived basic training with her. Things were quiet enough that they could all celebrate being alive, not being too actively shot at and being able to sleep in decent quarters while there was a war on.
Areta had led the others to a restaurant that she had been at before. The owner had promised her a real treat if she managed to get him some spices from yesterday`s shipment and she had managed that. The Druchii were led into a private room with a huge circular table and frail-looking chairs all around. The center of the table was given to a huge pot sunken into the tabletop that was divided into two halves by a divider.
Towels dipped in scaling hot water were given to everyone to clean hands and faces, lemon-flavored water and tea took the edge of the thirst.
There were two waitresses attending the mercenaries and they started to bring small dishes containing several vegetables and a lot of extremely finely-cut meat. The broth inside the pot was boiling by now and the vegetables were dropped inside.
The restaurant owner, Chang, introduced a lot of spices into one side of the pot which sported an evil red color within a minute. Then the slices of meat were added and removed after just a minute. By then the meat slices had wound themselves into knotty balls that tasted just fine. If one dared to eat those from the red side of the pot the taste was even better, but one paid in a price with sweat that drenched the skin under the hairs and a burning mouth. There were also some side dishes of vegetables to be had.
By now Areta had mastered the art of eating with chopsticks and like everybody else maneuvered the food from the pot into the mouth. The dish in front of her was only for dropping the inedible bits. As often she could not identify some of the side dishes and a pale, sprout-like stuff that tasted of salt water especially vexed her.
"Sorry Chang-what is this?"
"This is marinated jellyfish honored Company Leader."
"Ah, thanks I think."
There was a lot of other good stuff, like the small meatballs that were a layer of beef around another one of lobster, something that was hopefully mushrooms and a desert made from a pinkish sweet potato called Taro.
Areta was sweating like a hog from the spices, so full that she could hardly stand up and slightly dizzy from several glasses of a mean distilled spirit called Maotai.
"I did never eat like this way Chang, what is that called?"
"This is called the Hot Pot honored Company Leader, a true warriors dish. We have inherited this from the Kurgan. Once a great Kurgan leader wanted to give his men a meal before a great battle, but the time was too short to boil or barbeque properly. So he ordered his men to slice the meat very fine-and that started the tradition."
"Thanks Chang, and I am pretty sure we will repeat that."
"I feel honored you will honor this unworthy.."
"Can it Chang-you have one of the finest cuisines in Hsien and even I know that."
"Thanks anyway not-ignorant Company Leader."
She felt great, yet like the others she was unwilling to call it an evening yet.
"So girls, are we all well fed and watered?"
A lot of very full grunts and cheers answered.
"So are we in for a bit more fun?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"Either we go to Wang again-but I hear that he has no new boys, and I have to admit I am too full, how about you all?"
More assent followed.
"In that case I suggest foot massage."
That got tired enthusiasm.
About 30 minutes later Areta sat in a comfy chair, sipping another tea supposedly good for the skin, and had her feet in waster that seemed near to boiling while a young woman kneaded her shoulders and back.
When her feet were probably well done they were taken out of the bucket, dried, cleaned, oiled, massaged and pedicured. She loved every minute of it and had to work to stay awake.
Everybody was very very sure they had a good evening.
Northern Nigeria, 30 August 2016
Kochinus had a choice-he could hold out a bit longer and hope for improvement or he could relinquish his grip on his chosen vessel and transfer to another one. There were nearly no humans left in his realm and the few apes that were capable of bearing his gift were also dwindling.
The parts of him that were inside his winged messengers were also reduced in numbers. While he doubted that the humans could kill all of them they were far too few now and all of the survivors were far from any humans. In the very few cases were he was still able to bring his blessings to another human they rarely got to give it on. Most died-but they died alone.
If he were to stay longer in this gift he might overwhelm it, burning it out. Better to leave it to its own devices and to find another host. He had his eye on another virus, this one had a really impressive capability for mutations and easily given to others.
He went through the mental gymnastics that divorced him from his host, taking whatever made him up these days from the strands of protein that were so good at giving the gift.
He could extract himself about halfway before he simply burned the rest of his host as his presence was simply too much for the rest. For the first time in months he could perceive the world through his senses without the burdens of flesh. He started to look for a good concentration of the Virus he had chosen as his next host when he felt the pull.
At first he was sure that he was pulled back into the warp, which happened to his kind when the conditions would no longer allow his existence. But he quickly found this not to be the case. Instead his no corporeal body was somehow dragged across this blasted world. He tried to stop this but simply had nothing to "grab", so he could do nothing but curse and scream while the world around him became a blur with speed.
Karak de Redemption, Wasteland, same time
Zuseranz had not had a really good time in this world. Of the three godlets he had been the most concerned with magic, and that was something this world dearly lacked. Oh, the humans that had allied themselves with the Changer of Ways had given him sacrifices and the ground below him contained a concentration of warpstone. Yet to a being that was used to the unending power of the warp and the winds of magic that blew so freely on the old world this was a trickle compared to a stream, alms compared to riches.
Yet, now was the time. Now he had to expend the energy that he had so carefully husbanded if his plans were to succeed. And so far things were looking good.
Brother Pierre had taken to solitary walks in the paths outside of the Karak, trying to accept the many voices in his head. He watched the sky when something that looked like a heat wave crossed his field of view and disappeared inside the Karak`s courtyard. He knew better than to ask what happened there, even if he could not fathom what was so important there, besides the old well the enclosure was featureless.
It took Zuseranz a lot more energy, more coaxing and pushing, but in the end his erstwhile competitor had been pushed into the warpstone prison that he had built together with the humans. And it worked as intended. Nurgle`s ugly cur had found something he was useful for-he now fuelled Zuseranz great plans.
Peenemünde Nord, Markttag 1. Herbstzeit
The citizens of Tondern were used to the space launches by now, actually to the point where a small protest movement tried to ban launches at nighttime. It was understandable as a launch was loud enough to shake homes and test glass panes.
Germany had started to mass-produce the "Greif" rocket in in order to bank in on the already paid development and tooling costs. Currently there was a launch a month at the very least. Yet what happened today made even the hard-boiled citizen waggle their tongues. The launch exceeded even the normal limits for loudness to a seemingly apocalyptic level and the rocket that rose to heaven could be seen even longer than usual. This was hardly surprising as this was the first launch with the ultimate expression of the "Greif"-the so called "Greif schwer"
No less than 4 liquid-powered cores surrounded the first stage and 25 Viking engines provided Saturn 5 levels of thrust. Made with the rune of flying on all stages the payload mass was humungous and reached the triple digits in tons.
As with all the first flights of a new space launcher only very cheap and or experimental payloads were carried as nobody wanted to put one of the costly Navigation Satellites on an untried rocket. In the end things went well. One engine in the Booster number 4 gave off strange signals and was shut down early together with it opposite number, yet there was more than enough fuel and thrust to achieve the desired orbit.
While the second stage burned the payload shroud peeled away to reenter earth and revealed a girder structure that kept several different vehicles.
Two platforms detached themselves from the space between the third stage and the payload proper, they held several low-budget experiments by Universities and even some High Schools. A communication satellite lofted by a gusty provided separated next and ignited a transstage a little later.
Which left the two most important payloads. One was a humungous cylinder that filled the payload fairing nearly completely. With a diameter of more than 8 meters and a length of 20 it was the biggest object Germany had so far launched, but it was destined for bigger things. After a couple of orbits during which several checks were remotely performed from mission control several electric motors and actuators inside it began to work and pressure containers voided their gasses inside the cylinder.
Captured by a camera on another remote platform the cylinder began to grow. Simultaneously getting thicker and longer it roughly kept its proportions till it was longer than 50 meters and achieved a diameter of 20.
The walls of the cylinder were several layers of high-tech fabrics with an outer and an inner wall. Inside them an intricate series of structural members unfolded themselves with scissor-like movements. There was a lot of consternation when one part refused to perform and a lot of relief when a second attempt expanded the structure fully.
The next hours proved that the cylinder was pressure-proof-and that was about it. It held very limited instrumentation, no life support and no station keeping drive. It was a proof-of-concept that would be used as it had performed adequately. In the years to come several modules would dock with it, providing all that was currently missing.
The so-far unnamed cylinder would be the core of the world`s first space dock.
By the time the cylinder was expanding the last payload had run through its checklists and when the moment came water was injected into a stainless steel core that was red-hot from a rune of fire. Getting under enormous pressure the resulting steam escaped the nozzle at its end with a speed that could not be matched by a chemical rocket. The acceleration was nothing special, but it continued for quite a while and propelled the space probe at its tip into a highly elliptical orbit that would allow it a close pass with L3, the Lagrange point at the other side of the Warhammer sun. The point where, if Nathan the AI was to be trusted, a Star Gate waited, a Star Gate that possibly still worked.
The "Greif schwer" had been an untried space launcher, used only for payloads that were cheap-or very urgent.
Doitsu ikku, Shirasagi-Onsen, Nippon, same time
In a 300,000 citizen very much East Asian city, the 4 blocks of German-style brick and timber-framed houses were not more than a dash of color. Still, the Doitsu Ikku, the German Quarter, had become an important part of Shirasagi-Onsen.
The German experts, workers and diplomats of the city lived and in part worked there. Business, administration and teaching were done and the 3 pubs and restaurants were places for the homesick and a large number of curious native Nipponese. A library was part of the complex and a German school for the children and interested Nipponese nearby.
"Mayor" Markus Ruhdorfer was proud of his little part of the world. Much had been done in a comparatively short time and while the road was still long, Shirasagi-Onsen was in motion.
New water pipes, a sewage system, better roads and electricity were still in infancy, but spreading day by day.
Business and industry were growing in the city, the Zeppelins bringing in and transporting out goods Nippon could only get from Germany or vice versa. Among the new landmarks in Shirasagi were two Siemens-Martin furnaces, making it a truly industrial city.
The city and the surrounding villages were growing quite strongly, if the growth kept up, by the end of the decade the population would reach 400,000 or even slightly more.
While some things had been very easy to get going, others were not. Unlike on Earth, where Japan had modernized in marching step to stay independent, Warhammer´s Nippon was not endangered by aggressive would-be colonizers. Like all major nations there was the threat of Chaos and militaristic "neighbors", but this was not felt as urgently, since those powers used known measures in war.
The broad mass of the Nipponese leadership was now catching on, due to the examples in Sumeto and Shirasagi-Onsen, what advantages they could get and this helped the German expedition. Still, the bureaucratic and cultural red tape was a steady task to overcome.
Some things could only be done during meetings on feasts, others had to be tailor-made in formulation depending on which class the recipient belonged to. Complicating this was that the Nipponese culture was slightly different from Japanese culture. Some parts were more "modern", some parts more archaic. It was a learning experience for all.
Markus was in high spirits that day. He had come back from a full two weeks holiday home in Germany, which had recharged his batteries. Visiting his parents, meeting old friends, including Günter Koch, who had enough own stories to tell and strange but good news for Markus.
Markus and Günter were still amazed how the Weltensprung had changed their lives. Before they had been educated men, but ones in the broad mass of people and working in jobs they did not aim for.
Now Günter was a sorcerer in training with a destiny, Markus on a posting he liked, but one he was unlikely to achieve before the Weltensprung.
One thing about the similarities and differences of Nipponese and Japanese especially interested Administrator Ruhdorfer. Markus was a curious person, eclectically interested in many fields, so he had reported the findings of his biologists to Berlin early on, his gut feeling told him that it was important in the long run.
While the Nipponese and Japanese culture differed, quite logically due to their political and geographical situations, genetically they were the same. This should have been impossible impossible. Even a parallel evolution would lead to a significant genetic drift, but according to the researchers, there were just the typical deviances and drifts any population had. This left just one result, the Nipponese and Japanese, despite living on different planets, yes, even different universes, hailed from the same stock. Now it got really interesting...
The development of Humanity had been one the fields Markus found interesting since his school time, so he did not need experts for some basic scenarios of his own.
But that was something for later since Markus´ next task was due and it was an important one.
Gendo Tetsumori, the Daimyo of one of the most influential Clans in all of Nippon, had asked for a meeting. Markus did not know at this point, that the meeting would be an important turning point in his and the other Germans life in Nippon and unintentionally sideline his suspicions for the time being.
He took his briefcase, left the office and went to a conference room, the larger one with a high-grade beamer and sound-system. The tables had been removed and better seats put in in rows. This was not standard but experience speaking. Showing movies to the Nipponese coming here, especially the higher-ups, before the talks fully began, reaped nice results.
The Nipponese were not only interested in films about Germany and the Empire, but naturally about their Earth counterparts as well. Markus, like nearly every other person in the expert group, had been interested in Japan before, so he had some original Japanese movies, mostly Animes.
The anime Markus had chosen this time was a very valuable one, "Ginga Eiyu Densetsu", the "Legend of the Galactic Heroes". While highly influential in Japan proper, the series had never been dubbed and therefore not all that well known outside Japan.
Markus Ruhdorfer possessed a full collection he bought during a holiday in Japan, making it one of the handful crossing over to Warhammer via the Weltensprung.
The daimyo and his entourage really liked the series, still after 3 episodes business came to the forefront again. While part of Gendo Tetsumori´s company stayed to view more movies, catered by some assistants of Markus Ruhdorfer, the German, Gendo Tetsumori, two of his samurai, an advisor, a scribe and his oldest daughter Erika went to the office rooms. Nothing unusual, since the Germans had learned early on that in Nippon money business and transactions were mostly in the hands of the women. And Tetsumori was clearly grooming his daughter in these matters.
Meeting them there were the chief secretary and a translator. Markus´ Nipponese/Japanese had been polished up and vastly improved during his stay in Nippon, but in delicate negotiations he still preferred to have a translator to prevent mistakes in understanding.
After everybody sitting down, the negotiations began. And it started as usual, with talks about city development, transport of products and raw materials, school slots and other exchanges. Gendo Tetsumori himself wanted more learning courses for himself, his children and wife already were at school or with tutors.
"This should not be a problem, but space is getting tight in our school..."
"Do not worry, Ruhdorfer san, our Clan decided to sponsor an enlargement of your existing school and we will build a new one for 'modern' topics as well. But we need teachers when the new school is built."
"You are a forward-looking man, Daimyo, it is a pleasure to work with you. I will talk with the ministries about expanding the teaching staff for Shirasagi. It should be finished by the time the school you sponsor is ready."
Talking about schools and education led to further topics, so it took a further half of an hour until daimyo Tetsumori came to the most important part. At least the part he considered the most important, Markus Ruhdorfer had no idea what would hit him soon.
"Ruhdorfer san, I know that some of our ways are problematic for you Germans. A people valuing directness as much as you do will certainly feel so. Some clans are a lot more traditional than the ones you find in this region. When you negotiate with them, you are at an automatic disadvantage. i have a solution for that..."
And Gendo Tetsumori began to explain his solution and with every sentence more Markus Ruhdorfer simply thought: Oh frak, frak, frak! I´m screwed! Whatever I answer it will be the wrong one!
And it came to what Markus feared. At the end of Gendo´s explanation he asked Markus for the hand of his daughter Erika in marriage.
